


Survivor

by flootiger



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Dystopia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootiger/pseuds/flootiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set on the streets of a post-apocalyptic Berlin, Bill is a lone survivor, he lives, works and fights solo. However, a chance encounter with Tom, a seemingly ignorant but mysterious young man is about to change all that. Tom is definitely not what he seems and offers Bill the opportunity of a life time. But can Bill take it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tokiohotelfiction a while ago but I'm finally getting round to uploading all my works to here so, I hope you find something to enjoy :) It's massively inspired by Marie Lu's Legend, I fell in love with the world she created and wanted to try something of my own with it. 
> 
> And this one even has a banner! Made by my talented friend Marie:
> 
>  

Bill crouched, tucked between two metal structures that used to support a whole building. Now it was just dilapidated iron work and a few free standing brick walls. When it was storm season the wind rushed through this place, screaming through like a tornado and making it difficult for Bill to spy on the street below but today it was calm. He was one story up from the ground and from this vantage point he could make out nearly every street vendor propped up along the pavement beneath him.   
  
His belly rumbled, heralding his hunger and he grimaced. It had been nearly three days and he was about to either collapse from starvation or start eating his own arm. He’d had to return back to the Frei district three days ago, having been caught trying to steal a hotdog from a man with an over active tendency to throw knives.   
  
“Stupid,” Bill muttered, thinking back to his error. He hadn’t noticed the gleam of a blade tucked discreetly into the man’s filthy apron until it had been too late, a knife had whistled past him making him drop the hot dog and turn tail, darting into an alley and running until he was sure he wasn’t being followed.   
  
After that he’d had to leave the Hunde district, not because of the man with the knife but because of the two militia officers that had been standing just two stalls away by the noodle bar. Being caught by a fellow street ruffian was one thing, but being caught by the law... Bill shuddered, remembering how easily they’d kicked down his mother six years ago.   
  
Turning his attention back to his quarry he squinted his eyes, weighing up his chances. His belly gurgled again as he eyed a steaming fish vendor. He knew this area, he knew it too well in fact and normally he made a point to avoid places he’s stolen from before, but this was a favourite. He could see everything, he could hear everything and it was in this very room that he’d grown up. Until he was seven he’d watched his mother’s legs moving around the room, cooking noodles and cleaning clothes in a giant basin, feeding his baby sister—  
  
“Oi!”   
  
Bill snapped his head round, focusing in on a boy frozen on the spot in front of a food stand. A rat-faced woman was wielding a metal ladle in the boy’s face and she looked furious. The boy shook his head frantically, thrusting out his arms and trying to shove something the women’s way. She snatched it from him and shooed him away, her teeth bared.   
  
Bill narrowed his eyes. Perhaps this was too risky, perhaps he’d scavenge elsewhere.   
  
The Frei district was jumpier these days, the plague had spread north and signs of its fetid wake were apparent even this far up. At first it wasn’t a serious threat, it swept through district by district, picking out a few of the weak like any flu but soon it had mutated, attacking the young and healthy, the rich as well as the poor. It had claimed his father and his sister all in one week, and then the raids came. Huge military swarms knocking into buildings, either shooting victims on the spot or blasting their door into a pile of inaccessible rubble to ‘quarantine’ them.   
  
Bill and his mother had fled, bundling up their entire lives in a backpack and fleeing south. Then they got his mother and Bill had trekked back to the familiar Frei district in seek of solace.   
  
The world was a violent and filthy place but a twelve year old Bill had somehow managed to survive in it. Some would say he thrived, honing his skills to get exactly what he wanted but he knew he was just another street vermin, committing petty crimes each day in order to make a living. It wasn’t his fault if somehow the military ended up a bit worse for wear, but usually, he didn’t allow attention to be drawn to himself. He was a lone wanderer, operating solo to survive solo.   
  
Without warning a crash emerged from the depths of the rubble behind him. Bill whipped round, shooting up to adopt a subtly defensive pose and shrouding his head quickly in his scarf. He peered into the gloom, trying to decipher what had caused the disturbance.   
  
“Fuck.”   
  
Bill didn’t move as he heard another male voice swearing in the dark. He waited, breathing steadily and clenching his fists tightly.   
  
From the shadows a figure emerged, he stood as tall as Bill and looked more built but had none of Bill’s finesse. This man had practically fallen into the building. He was scruffy but dressed in a black military jacket that looked more expensive than anything Bill owned. He did however notice a tainted gold button that didn’t match the others. He’d either stolen this jacket or had to repair it himself it was that worn – not uncommon for street folk. His hair was braided by street grime into dreadlocks and his face was smudged with soot. It was too dark to see much else, the crumbling roof ahead blocking much of the light.   
  
Bill readied himself.   
  
“Oh,” the young man said, stopping short as he spotted Bill standing with his fists balled by his sides.   
  
Bill remained silent, not wanting to give away anything about himself to a stranger.   
  
The man hesitated then took a step forward, clearly unsure. Bill tensed and was surprised when the man noticed and halted. Perhaps he was smarter than he looked. Bill would have to be careful.   
  
“I didn’t think anyone would be up here,” the other man confessed with a casual shrug.   
  
Bill narrowed his eyes a fraction, taking in the man’s smooth features and slight smile. Was he trying to appeal to him?   
  
“What are you doing up here?” The other man went on, oblivious to Bill’s hostility, or perhaps trying to work past it.   
  
When Bill continued to reign with silence the man shrugged again and stuck his hands in his pockets.   
  
 _Stupid_ , Bill thought, how could the man defend himself now? If Bill were to attack he’d stand no chance. Bill was viper fast and despite being smaller than the man, he knew he could knock him out in three seconds flat and be half way down the street in the next ten without a scratch on his body.   
  
“I was just coming to see if I could find a place to kip, I’ve been travelling a long time.”   
  
Bill frowned, how ignorant was this man? Giving away details of his life like it was the plague. Already Bill knew the man was tired, not from around here and seeking a place away from other people. He was as vulnerable as a newborn and looked about as clueless as one. Where on earth had he come from?   
  
“You don’t talk much, huh?” The man grinned, a sweet, lop-sided grin that made him look friendly. Bill blinked, ignoring the way he wanted to relax his posture. “No problem, I guess I can do the talking. You’re pretty skinny, you hungry?”   
  
He took another step forward... and another, he didn’t stop after the third and Bill panicked, thrown off guard by the man’s sudden advances.   
  
Just as the man was drawing dangerously close he threw up his fists, leaping around to place himself away from the open ledge of the building. It was only a drop of one floor but Bill didn’t want to risk injury when he was already low on energy.   
  
He tried keeping his eyes on his opponent but the man was too quick, instead slamming Bill back into one of the rusty metal beams he’d been crouching behind just moments before. He held him in place, one forearm thrust against Bill’s throat while his other trapped his wrists together.   
  
Bill grunted, struggling to get out of the man’s hold and failing. He tried not to panic and willed his thumping heart to slow down and his brain to catch up with what had just happened. He blinked up at the man venomously.   
  
“Sorry,” the man actually looked apologetic and Bill tried bucking up against his grip once more. “Jeez, you’re a strong girl.”   
  
Bill opened his mouth, offended, then closed it again, instead imagining he was ripping the man’s head of his shoulders. Maybe he could play this to his advantage, he’d been mistaken for a girl before, being thin with soft features and long, dark hair and while it had often gotten him into trouble, it had also helped him out of it. He prayed this would be one of the latter times.   
  
He widened his eyes convincingly and looked down, away from the other man but still, remained silent.   
  
“You want some food?” The other man offered again. “I’ll let you go and give you some if you promise not to try anything, you’re quick.”   
  
Bill bit his lip and glanced up into his enemy’s eyes, playing damsel in distress perfectly. Then he nodded once, silently planning his escape as soon as the other man let up.   
  
“Okay, stay where you are.” Slowly, the man loosened his grip on Bill and as soon as he did Bill was out, quick as a hare and swinging one arm to back hand the man hard across the jaw. The man was fast again, grabbing his hand in his own once more but this time Bill was ready, instead using the man’s weight against him, ducking low and sending a swinging kick beneath his opponent’s legs as the man almost toppled over as Bill went down. He released Bill but was on his feet the next instant, leaping forward to tackle him to the ground.   
  
They landed in a swirl of dust and debris and Bill coughed, blinking away the dirt that was scratching his eyes. The other man was on top of him, a heavy weight pressing down. Bill brought up hand between them and shoved it up, smashing the palm of his hand into the man’s nose. The man grunted but didn’t let up, instead with lightning speed, he grabbed Bill’s hands, twisting them above his head. He cursed himself, hating how weak his body was after days of hunger.   
  
Bill fought hard against whimpering as pain shot through his arms and into his shoulders. It hurt, the man was hurting him but Bill was strong, he was a survivor. He would get out of this.   
  
Together, they lay panting, the man propped over Bill in a cloud of filth. Bill glared adamantly up at him, wanting his eyes to convey just how much he hated him and warning him,  _this is not over._  
  
“What’s your deal?” The man said, his chest still heaving after the effort of their fight.   
  
Bill didn’t say anything, but made sure to spit the biggest gob of saliva he could muster up at the man. It missed but the man looked mildly disgusted as it landed on his chest.   
  
“I’m not as clumsy as I seem,” the man grinned. “I saw you analysing me the moment I stepped into the building.”   
  
Bill couldn’t help himself; “and I’m not as weak,” he snapped.   
  
He shook his head, his scarf falling to the ground to reveal the rest of his face.   
  
The man gasped, and Bill almost grinned at how much of a failure this man was at concealing who he was and how he felt. He wore every single emotion like a badge of honour on his sleeve.   
  
“Your voice... you’re a boy,” the man breathed, staring down. “Kind of small.”   
  
Bill nearly spat again.   
  
“How old are you?” The man asked, not loosening his grip on Bill. This time Bill didn’t struggle, instead lying here, defeated for now. He looked up into the man’s eyes and startled himself by noticing how nice they were, dark and gentle. His eyes darted away determinedly.   
  
“Eighteen.”   
  
“Young,” the man seemed to ponder this. “What are you doing on the streets?”   
  
Bill looked at the man as if he’d lost his mind. “Are you stupid? Same as everyone else.”   
  
The man chuckled and tightened his grip a little, as though to warn Bill he couldn’t do as he did last time. “Just making conversation.”   
  
Bill wanted to ask a million and one questions about this mysterious intruder but he didn’t dare, he’d already given away his age and that was more than enough. Instead he clamped his lips over his teeth to button them, hopefully permanently this time.   
  
The man smiled and looked down at Bill with a kind expression. “I’m Tom.”   
  
Bill didn’t say anything but cursed himself for once again looking up into the man’s eyes. Noticing as he did how warm they looked, how warm and inviting. Bill was not one to get attached to anyone but despite his spit-fire temper and still boiling anger at the man for calling him a girl and defeating him, he couldn’t quite look away.   
  
 _Stupid_ , Bill thought again. Number one rule of survival, do not get attached to anything or anyone. Don’t even look at anything or anyone too long. Especially not people who smiled as nicely Tom did.   
  
“I’m assuming you’ve got a name,” Tom said. Bill winced internally, wishing Tom had kept his identity secret, it was always harder once names had been exchanged.   
  
“Okay, different tact,” Tom sighed but was still smiling. “How about you come with me tonight?”   
  
Bill shot his focus right back to Tom and tried arching his back in an attempt to throw Tom off him. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” He yelled.   
  
“Calm down,” Tom pressed down firmly but not painfully and Bill stopped struggling as the wind was slightly knocked out of him. “I didn’t mean like that,” he paused. “I have a proposal for you.”   
  
Bill frowned, what kind of proposal? Did he really want to find out? He blinked, then said slowly. “What kind of proposal?”   
  
“Nothing too sinister,” Tom grinned. “I want to talk to you about something important. Do you know a place we can go for a drink?”   
  
“I don’t drink,” Bill said blankly.   
  
“To eat then, you look starved,” Tom proffered.  
  
Bill squirmed. He  _was_  hungry, he was fucking famished but he could find food on his own, he’d been doing it for six years and he wasn’t about to start relying on a second person. Second people complicated things, they never made it easier.   
  
“No.” Bill said.   
  
Tom sighed again and shifted atop Bill. Bill could feel the warmth between their bodies and found himself relishing in it ever so slightly.   
  
“You’re a no crap kind of guy.”   
  
Bill nodded, almost feeling triumphant.   
  
“Fine,” the man frowned, seemingly pondering something unbeknownst to Bill. Then he spoke, “What do you know about Zimmer 483?”   
  
Bill sucked in a breath. Zimmer 483 were the ones fighting for the cause; they wanted a new way of life, new leaders and new regimes and a whole new society. Bill knew he’d inadvertently helped their cause by wreaking havoc among the military but he’d never wanted much else to do with them. They used strategy and technology and had scores of people all rallying together to achieve one common goal. Bill worked alone, he lived alone and he fought alone.   
  
“You’ve heard about them, haven’t you?” Tom said softly.   
  
Bill nodded slowly, unsure what was going to come next. This was dangerous territory, if they got caught even mentioned Zimmer 483 they’d be shot on the spot, or worse, dragged in for interrogation.   
  
“You know they’re working against the government, right?”   
  
Bill nodded again.   
  
Tom dropped his voice, his eyes locking with Bill’s. “You want to join them?”   
  
Bill’s eyes widened and he immediately shook his head. “No way in hell!”   
  
Tom dropped his gaze and ever so slightly squeezed his knees against Bill’s waist. “Come on, what have you got here?”   
  
Bill glared up at Tom. Who was he to tell him what he had and hadn’t got? Bill had built his whole life on nothing and he intended to keep it that way, he’d achieved what so many people had failed to do, he’d mastered the art of survival and throwing himself into Zimmer 483 would do nothing to favour that.   
  
“How much do you value your own life?” Tom asked. Bill barely registered as the bigger man loosened his grip on his hands, instead stroking the skin at his wrists ever so gently.   
  
Bill didn’t know how to answer the question, he didn’t know how much it was worth, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t own anything, he didn’t have anyone, he just did what he had to, day by day.   
  
“You don’t have a home, or friends or family,” Tom went on. Bill started, how much had he given away? He thought he had been the one to pick up on all Tom’s secrets as he’d practically stumbled into the room. He’d clearly been naive enough not to realise just how good Tom had been at drawing attention to himself in order to worm his way into Bill’s own head. Bill had been so focused on learning what he could about Tom and too slow to cover himself from Tom’s own observations.   
  
“Zimmer 483 can give you that and more, no more poverty on the streets, no more running from the military or the plague or silently cursing the people who made the world go bad. And not just you, everyone. We’re changing all that, we’re fighting for a better place.”   
  
The silence that followed was deafening, Bill closed his eyes momentarily and felt Tom’s breath over his face.   
  
“We need people like you,” Tom said softly. “You’re the perfect survivor.”   
  
Bill’s eyes flashed open just as Tom released his hands and bent to kiss him.


	2. Chapter Two

At first Bill was too stunned to react, the press of Tom’s lips sending him into a whirl of emotions. But then he regained his senses, whacking Tom over the head and glaring at him.   
  
“Mother _fucker_ ,” he spat.   
  
Tom sat back, looking as stunned as Bill had felt just seconds previously. Then he grinned again, “sorry.” He didn’t look sorry at all.   
  
Bill glared at him, wishing the blaze of a thousand suns would come down and smite Tom for his audacity. “Don’t touch me again.”   
  
He shoved both his palms against Tom’s chest, forcing the other man to roll off him at last and crouch on the dusty floor. Bill stood hastily, his fists balled up angrily and his heart thundering a mile a minute against his rib cage. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t quite trust his legs to carry him far before Tom caught up with him. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to run from Tom anyway... not just yet at least. The strange man had entered his life in such a whirlwind, he’d knocked the breath out of Bill in more than one way and he couldn’t quite bring himself to give that up so promptly.   
  
“This where you stay?” Tom asked, looking up at Bill through dark lashes.   
  
Bill pursed his lips, still wary about giving away the details of his existence.   
  
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Tom stood, brushing off dust from his trousers and standing before Bill, completely relaxed. “No more questions. I can’t help myself, though, you’re quite the curious creature.”   
  
“No,” Bill blurted.   
  
“No, what?” Tom looked at him oddly.   
  
Bill held his breath, then let it go in a whoosh. “I don’t live here.” This could very well be the beginning of his end, but Bill found he didn’t exactly mind that thought as much as he should. “At least, not anymore.”   
  
Tom’s eyes softened in sympathy but Bill scowled, not wanting to be pitied. “I’m sorry,” Tom said quietly. “I heard about the devastation the military caused this far south.   
  
Bill looked at Tom sharply. “This far south?”   
  
Tom shrugged and slotted his hands into his pockets just like he’d done earlier. “The plague didn’t reach my home, it sort of just... stopped before it got to the north. That’s why Zimmer 483 can operate so effectively up there, no interruptions. Then again, the government don’t need to interfere up there with the amount of power they have down here.”   
  
Bill frowned and looked over Tom’s shoulder into the darkness. As far as he’d known this was it, this was the north and everything beyond was just uninhabitable wasteland where the plague rampaged without boundaries. How many other lies had the government fed them? Or was Tom the one with it all wrong?   
  
“I thought this was the north,” Bill muttered, looking back at Tom.   
  
“You did? Huh, I’d heard they government was feeding you all sorts of bullshit.” Tom frowned now, not something Bill had seen him do much since their meeting. “Just another way to control you all, to contain you down here.”   
  
“They told us the plague was running free up beyond the city outskirts, that everything was just... dead.”   
  
Tom looked down at Bill with another sympathetic eye. “It’s not like that. It’s sunnier and cleaner but there are less people and infrastructure. People tend to move around a lot but it’s nice, I have my own tent and my mum always lives next door.”  
  
Bill liked the idea of living in a tent, in the middle of a clean world.   
  
“Are there... trees and stuff?” He asked.   
  
“Loads,” Tom said. “You guys have it rough down here in comparison.”   
  
Bill pulled a face, like he’d know.   
  
Tom hesitated, obviously noticing he wasn’t being very sensitive. “It rains a lot though,” he said, as though to compensate.   
  
Bill almost smiled. “I don’t like the rain all that much. Makes it hard to find a dry place to sleep, especially during storm season.”   
  
Tom’s eyes flashed with something but before Bill could work out what it was, the look had passed, leaving Tom standing with that stupid look of sympathy.   
  
“I don’t want that puppy look you’re giving me to stick around, so you can stop feeling sorry for me,” Bill said acidly.   
  
Tom held up his hands in mock surrender and smiled again. “Such a brat, they warned me about the tongues on street folk.”   
  
Bill cracked a sly grin. “You’d better get used to it if you’re this far from home.”   
  
Suddenly, Bill realised he had no idea what exactly Tom was doing this far from home. He regarded Tom carefully, trying to gauge his possible errand from the north. It had to be some sort of mission, or perhaps he’d just ended up really, really lost. Berlin was a big place.   
  
“...what are you doing down here? If it’s so much nicer up there why don’t you just stay?”   
  
Tom let out a short laugh and then looked at Bill. “That wouldn’t be very fair on the rest of you. When we destroy the government we can all live like we do in the north.”   
  
“Well thanks for sharing,” Bill snapped. “If Zimmer 483 has such power why haven’t they used it yet?”  
  
Tom looked at Bill, his eyes twinkling. “Which brings me to answer your first question; why am I here? I’m here to round the troops, gather the armies, get the ball rolling. We’re going to start the real revolution, not just mess around with the government’s military operations every now and then.”   
  
“You’re here to specifically target people like me? Street vagrants who have a petty criminal background?” Bill couldn’t believe that he, amongst others of his kind, were to be the answer to the woes of Berlin and be the secret weapons of Zimmer 483.   
  
Tom nodded, seemingly pleased with Bill’s response.   
  
“But I can’t do anything like fight a whole army! Have you seen the streets? They’re crawling with the militia!” Bill stared at Tom with wide eyes. “There are so many of them, and not enough strength amongst the rest of us. It’s like the government has sapped us of everything we need in order to be strong.”   
  
He paused...  _the government has sapped us of everything we need in order to be strong._  
  
The idea of coming with Tom to join Zimmer 483 terrified him, but at the same time it instilled a drive deep in his heart, something he hadn’t felt in many years. It was the beginnings of passion. Tom had brought with him a tiny flint on which Bill’s dying passion could spark back to life on.   
  
“You could make such a difference, you have agility and speed, skills in the kind of landscape we’re hopeless on, you’re a real fighter of this war,” Tom said quietly, his voice low as though Bill would snap out of it and flee any moment.   
  
Bill’s eyes flicked back onto the man standing before him. He blinked slowly and then said. “So are you getting me something to eat or what?”   
  


~~~~

  
  
They found a small street vendor several streets away, out of sight of anyone who might have heard their earlier scuffle. In front of the stall that sold soup several make shift tables and chairs had been set up using an assortment of street debris; plastic oil drums, wooden crates and bits of metal that had been warped out of shape. It was at one of these recycled tables and chairs that Bill and Tom took their seats, each holding a small cup of soup.   
  
Bill wolfed his down, all questions forgotten as he snarfed the first meal he’d had in days. When he was done he sat back, licking his lips and was startled to see that Tom hadn’t even touched his soup.   
  
“Are you going to eat that?” Bill asked, eyeing the other man’s full cup of food.   
  
Tom chuckled and handed the cup to Bill. “Be my guest.”   
  
“You got enough money for another or do you want me to lift something for you?”   
  
“Lift?” Tom questioned, leaning his forearms onto the oil drum between them.   
  
“Lift, snatch, nick...” Bill stuffed another spoonful of food into his mouth as Tom looked at him blankly. “ _Steal_ ,” he hissed quietly, rolling his eyes.   
  
“Oh,” Tom finally understood.  
  
“You don’t know anything,” Bill scoffed. “No wonder you were making such a racket when you first came into my room.”   
  
Tom chuckled again. “You see how much we need people like you?”  
  
Bill shrugged. “I’m pretty valuable.”   
  
They sat in silence while Bill demolished his second helping, slower this time. He wanted to savour this meal, not knowing when his next would be. Usually he’d eat as quickly as he could, wary of passing thieves or men and women bigger than he who would pick a fight over a scrap of bread. Today though, he was in the company of Tom.   
  
Bill nearly kicked himself, not wanting to lower his guard too much. He would have to be careful. Tom didn’t mean anything, the man could fight but he wasn’t good for much else, as far as Bill could tell.   
  
When he finished he set the cup beside his first and looked at Tom. He noticed a purple bruising beginning to form on his jaw and nose and almost felt guilty. Tom seemed to catch him looking.   
  
“You got me good,” he said, rubbing a hand over his jaw and nose gingerly.   
  
Bill shrugged, ignoring the pang of remorse he felt. “Look what you did.” He thrust his wrists into Tom’s face, the dirty sleeves pushed back to reveal thin lines of bruising where Tom’s slender fingers had gripped him.   
  
Unexpectedly, Tom delicately wrapped his fingers around Bill’s wrists, pulling him closer. “Sorry,” he said softly. Bill held his breath as Tom examined the damage.   
  
Suddenly, an overwhelming desire to kiss Tom took over Bill and he snatched his hands back instantly, disgusted with himself.   
  
“You say sorry too much,” he said roughly, cradling his arms close and tensing all over.   
  
Tom didn’t seem perturbed at Bill’s outburst but instead placed his arms back on the table and leant in with a smile.   
  
“So, you’re here, in the Frei district, alone and searching for young girls and boys to join... your cause.” Bill didn’t want to blurt out that he had affiliations with Zimmer 483, that would out them both in the presence of immediate danger.   
  
“You make it sound so predatory,” Tom said. “I assure you, it’s not. I’m just completing my mission.”   
  
Bill wasn’t so sure about that. “The kiss, and what was the kiss about?” he demanded.   
  
“Oh,” Tom chuckled. “That was because I thought you were cute.”   
  
Bill lashed out, punching Tom hard in the upper arm. “You fucker!”   
  
Tom laughed, grabbing one of Bill’s wrists again, his speedy reflexes once again matching Bill’s. Bill found himself close to Tom, leaning over the table at an awkward angle. His belly dug into the rough metal of the oil drum but he found himself not caring, despite his compromising position.   
  
Tom grinned like he knew something Bill didn’t and then bridged the gap between them, kissing Bill for a second time on the lips. This time Bill was just as stunned, but he didn’t pull back. Instead he let Tom’s soft lips guide his own, pressing gently with a slight urgency that made Bill’s heart pound. When Tom’s tongue slipped past his lips Bill gasped, leaning in to Tom across the table. Suddenly, he didn’t want the table there, he wanted to have his entire body pressed against Tom’s with nothing but warm skin between them.   
  
He flushed, finally pulling back with a start. It had been hard but he was beginning to feel scared of his own feelings. If he kept this loopy behaviour up he’d end up face down in a dumpster. He had to stay alert, remember where he was.   
  
Beside them someone whistled and Bill snapped his head round to give whoever had dared taunt him a piece of his mind. He stopped abruptly however when he saw who had made the sound. He didn’t need Tom’s warning squeeze on his wrist to tell him to shut up.   
  
Standing near their table were two militia officers. Standing tall, clean and deadly with a gun each slung over their backs and several more weapons tucked neatly into their artillery belts.   
  
“You want to share a piece?” The officer addressed Tom and Bill scowled as they talked about him as though he was a piece of meat.   
  
Tom remained silent but tapped Bill’s foot discreetly with his own.  
  
Bill glanced at him subtly.   
  
“ _Run on three_.”   
  
Bill wanted to throw a tantrum at being treated like such a weak little boy. First these guards wanting to cart him off to have their way with him and now Tom who wanted to fight for him like he was his personal hero. Bill fought his own battles.   
  
“ _No_ ,” he said back to Tom, not even moving his lips.  
  
Without warning he stood up, leaping across the table and landing before the startled militia. Deftly he snatched two knives from their belts, swinging his legs out from under him as he did so. The man, completely caught off guard, collapsed in a heap as their legs were taken from beneath them.   
  
Bill cackled in victory and darted back to Tom who was already on his feet looking ready for flight. Hastily Bill tucked the knives into his own belt and grabbed Tom’s hand as together they sprinted to the nearest building, disappearing inside and rushing through to find a back exit.   
  
“You crazy thing!” Tom yelled, but he sounded impressed and Bill couldn’t help but grin.   
  
“A day in the life of the street vermin of Berlin!” Bill called back hopping over a pile of bricks and out the door on the other side.   
  
“We need to hide, maybe go underground,” Tom said as they burst into daylight.   
  
Bill shook his head. “No, we need to go higher.”   
  
Together they ran through the streets, dodging people and leaping over obstacles, using crowds to hide amongst and cutting through buildings to reach the next streets along.   
  
Soon they slowed and Bill pointed skywards. “We’re going up.” He said.   
  
Tom followed his gaze and grinned. “Take the lead.”   
  
Bill clambered up first, using rusty rungs as foot holes until he reached the top of what was once a many-floored hospital. He’d learnt that people used to use these outdoor ladders as fire escapes, before Berlin had collapsed, taking the rest of the Republic of Germany with it.   
  
He hauled himself over the top and collapsed onto the ground, sweat pouring down his sides and matting his floppy hair.   
  
Tom followed a moment later, jumping down from the low ledge far more elegantly than Bill had managed.   
  
They shared another grin. Bill watched as Tom surveyed the rooftop. Tom’s face was alight with the adrenaline that had coursed through them both as they’d hared through Berlin. His hair had blown into an even more ridiculous style and his eyes were sparkling in the dim light. It had begun to fall dark as they’d been on the run, the sun setting behind the crumbling city line.   
  
Tom looked down at Bill. “So this is your life.”   
  
Bill nodded, feeling somewhat at ease with his companion. Tom had managed to break down his walls quicker than anyone had ever managed and this scared Bill as well as elated him.   
  
“Always running,” he said.   
  
“You sure get around,” Tom commented.   
  
“I’ve been as far as the sea, right into the Wasser district.” Bill wrinkled his nose. “I didn’t like it much, it smelt of rotten fish and the fog was so thick I could only see about a metre over the water.”   
  
“You didn’t swim?” Tom grinned.   
  
“No way! I felt like I was getting the plague by just looking at it.”   
  
“Do they have boats?”   
  
Bill shook his head, scraping it gently against the concrete beneath it. “Not any more, my dad used to talk about them though and once he drew me a picture.”   
  
“My dad liked boats, too,” Tom said and Bill detected a deep fondness in his voice as well as noticing Tom’s use of past tense. He must have lost his father, too.   
  
Bill didn’t know what to say so he remained silent, perfectly happy to do so. He was sure he’d spoken more words to Tom in one day than he had to everyone he’d ever met in the last six years collectively.   
  
“You’re not going to be able to sleep down there, you know,” Tom said gesturing to Bill’s stone resting place.   
  
Bill smiled. “I can sleep anywhere, I slept in the sewers once.”   
  
Tom frowned. “Well tonight there’s a mattress I’m going to kip on so you’re welcome to join me.”   
  
Bill lifted his head curiously as Tom strode over to an abandoned mattress lying just feet away. It looked dry and reasonably clean so Bill perked, not used to having such luxuries.   
  
“Move over,” he said as he reached it. Tom was just laying down and he grinned up at Bill.   
  
As Tom shifted to one side of the mattress Bill sank down onto it, relishing in the soft fabric and bouncy springs that made it so comfy. He jiggled round, almost giggling at how much fun this was.   
  
“When was the last time you even saw one of these?” Tom asked, grinning at Bill’s joy.   
  
“I don’t remember,” Bill replied, lying down beside Tom.   
  
As soon as he did so Tom reached for him, wrapping one arm around his waist and tugging him close.   
  
“What are you doing?” Bill demanded, resisting the other man’s hold.   
  
“Holding you,” Tom responded calmly.   
  
“No you fucking aren’t,” Bill snorted, trying to worm his way out of Tom’s embrace.   
  
“Calm down, I’m not going to hold you hostage... I’m just going to hold you.” Bill could hear the pleased grin in Tom’s tone.   
  
“How am I supposed to spring into action if you’re pinning me to the mattress?” Bill moaned, ignoring how comforting it was to be held in Tom’s warm arms.   
  
“There’s not going to be anyone looking for you up here, besides this is a hospital.”   
  
Bill pulled a face. “Ugh, I suppose you’re right.”   
  
Hospitals were where it had all started, the plague had been a contained virus, contained until a group of imbecile doctors had released it accidently, allowing it to swoop through the nation like wild fire. No one had liked to hang around hospitals since.   
  
“If you touch me inappropriately I will kill you,” Bill warned, lying stiffly against Tom’s chest.   
  
“I won’t, you can trust me,” Tom said, his breath puffing over Bill’s black hair as he laughed.   
  
“I don’t even know you,” Bill said quietly, thinking about how true those words were. He didn’t know Tom and yet here he was, lying in the man’s arms and going against every single rule of survival Bill had set for himself.   
  
“No,” Tom said, finding one of Bill’s hands and holding it between his own. “But you can get to know me, teach me about this place, teach us all about this place.”   
  
Bill didn’t say anything, he wouldn’t commit to any spoken contracts of Tom’s just yet.   
  
Suddenly, he turned in the other man’s arms until they were face to face. He blinked, gazing into Tom’s dark eyes. “If I come back with you, can I share your tent? I don’t have one.”   
  
Tom blinked back, looking thrown for a moment and then he laughed, surging forward to kiss Bill hard.   
  
“You can even share my bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys :)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is taking me a long long time to upload, I've had in for so long. The last part shouldn't follow TOO shortly. Thank you whoever is still with me :) 
> 
> Thanks to **HittingSasukeIsFun** for reminding me about this story and leaving such sweet comments!

A summer heat woke Bill, the early morning sun spreading its rays over where he lay. He blinked, squinting against the brightness and stretching out his limbs. Suddenly, he started, stiffening as he felt two arms holding him in place. For a moment he panicked, not knowing why he couldn’t move freely but as soon as he threw a look over his shoulder, he calmed.   
  
Bill thought back to last night with a wry smile. He’s fallen asleep soundly in Tom’s arms, not before hitting him for the comment about sharing his bed. It was confusing, trying to work out how he felt about Tom falling into his life so abruptly.   
  
Tom was always smiling, he seemed carefree and at ease around Bill and while Bill could feel himself slipping into a similar character, he wanted to test out the waters a little more before he decided to go gallivanting off into the unknown with a practical stranger.   
  
He smiled when he felt Tom stir behind him and was about to turn over and greet the dread-headed man when the back of his neck prickled.   
  
In one swift movement he sprang from the bed, arms aloft in a defensive stance, chin down and ready to fight.   
  
“Mornin’, sunshine.”   
  
Bill’s stomach twisted into knots so tight he almost couldn’t breathe. Before him what looked like an entire squadron was standing ready, machine guns poised and matching looks of disgust adorning their faces. The militia hated people like Bill, people who came from nothing but knew how to tamper with their operations.   
  
Bill had caused so much inadvertent trouble for them he had known it was only a matter of time before they caught up with him. Most wouldn’t recognise his face, he wore his scarf almost all the time, and usually when he messed with them it was under the cover of dark. He was silent, in, out and the job was done. Even if half the time he didn’t even mean to disrupt the militia, he just wanted something to eat.   
  
But at the very front of the squadron was a man Bill knew.   
  
“Bushido,” Bill snarled.   
  
“Found your hideout at last.”   
  
Bill was about to correct them; this was not his hideout, it had been a one off. But then he stopped himself, remembering to clam up. Don’t play their game.   
  
“Sleep well? An’ you got a friend this time.” Bushido nodded to Tom, who was just beginning to stir. What was with him? He could sleep through a tornado. Bill shook his head minutely, if the rest of Zimmer 483 were just like Tom they needed serious training. Life on the streets had taught Bill to wake up at the drop of a pin.   
  
“Leave him,” Bill said lowly. “He’s not my friend.”   
  
“I ain’t touchin’ him” Bushido leered. “I got my eye on you an’ only you.”   
  
Bill inwardly cringed but remained standing tall.   
  
“You caused enough trouble, sunshine. It’s time you came with us.”   
  
Bill didn’t say anything. Bushido knew it was him who had wreaked so much havoc on Berlin. Bushido was the closest Bill had ever come to being captured. It had been a stormy night, fog shrouded most of the streets and he must have taken a wrong turn after unleashing the entire contents of a military truck. Fruit and vegetables as well as hand grenades and bullets had poured into the streets and Bill had thought he’d managed to get away scot free.   
  
It wasn’t until Bushido’s massive hands had come down hard on the back of neck, knocking him to the ground and forcing his shirt full of fruit to roll away into the filthy puddles that covered the ally floor. His scarf had fluttered down from his head and Bill was revealed. He knew his pale face would have been visible to Bushido, even in the dim light.   
  
Bushido had snarled, picked Bill up by the scruff of his neck and slammed him against the wall, pressing his body in far too close. Bill knew what was coming, it wasn’t the first advance the militia had made on him and he knew it wouldn’t be the last but so far, Bill had managed to escape by just getting on his knees for them. Bushido had wanted more than though, Bill could tell, and the thought caused terror to rip through him so fiercely he had lashed out with such force Bushido had staggered back, clearly shocked by skinny little Bill’s strength. They’d struggled for the gun and Bushido had got there first, but then Bill’s deft hands had twisted it, firing the weapon. He hadn’t even looked back to see if Bushido was hit, he’d leapt from his captor and legged it all the way to Reden district.   
  
Now, Bill was faced with him again and there was nowhere to go, no way of escape.   
  
Behind him he heard Tom leap up and swear.   
  
“What the fuck?”   
  
Bill shot a look at Tom but remained facing the soldiers wanting to appear strong.   
  
“Decided to join us?” Bushido turned his leer on Tom and Bill wanted to slap it right off his face.   
  
“Who the fuck are you?” Tom snapped. Bill was startled to hear the venom behind Tom’s words unused to anything but joviality from his new companion.   
  
“I should be asking you that,” the smile had been wiped off Bushido’s face at last. He was eyeing Tom, his upper lip curled in distaste. “Where’d you get a jacket like that? You ain’t no militia.”   
  
Tom looked down at the black jacket that was almost identical to Bushido’s own. Smart, warm, military. But Tom’s was worn and shabby with a tarnished button. Tom’s jacket screamed outsider, Bill knew.   
  
“You know this guy?” Tom directed the question at Bill.   
  
Bushido snorted derogatively. “Could say that.”   
  
“I might have shot him in the hand once,” Bill said, unable to contain a devilish grin of his own.   
  
Bushido snarled and held up a withered looking limb with his baby finger missing.   
  
“Oo, got him good,” Tom said and Bill could hear him shift into his own defensive posture. “He does that. See?”   
  
Bill darted his eyes to the left and saw Tom lifting his chin so Bushido would notice the blossoming bruises on his jaw and nose.   
  
“Enough,” Bushido spat. “I asked you a question. Where you from?”   
  
“He’s from the Wasser district,” Bill cut in, not knowing if Tom had a quick wit but decided to take the lead for him anyway.   
  
“Long way from home, ay,” Bushido noted and Bill could hear genuine surprise in his voice. “Long way to come.”   
  
“Visiting family,” Tom said. “That allowed?”   
  
Bushido’s lip curled even further. “Depends.”   
  
“On what?” Tom challenged.   
  
But Bushido was shaking his head, he was beginning to get pissed off by Tom. Bill watched as he turned to grunt a command to the man on his right but Bill couldn’t catch the words. He shifted uncomfortably but then his eyes widened as the man hefted his gun up, training the barrel right at Tom’s head.   
  
“No!” He screamed but Tom was quicker, grabbing Bill’s arm and yanking him to the side. Bill nearly stumbled over his own feet but managed to follow Tom. They sprinted to the edge of the hospital, the wall coming closer at an alarming rate.   
  
“What the fuck are we doing?! Tom!” Bill yelled but Tom didn’t slow down. They were going to jump. Oh my god, they were going to jump right into thin air. Bill knew there was nothing to meet them on the other side but a cold, concrete ground 30 floors below.  
  
“Do you trust me?” Tom yelled urgently over the shouts of the militia behind them. Bill could hear Bushido’s voice bellowing instructions and then a shot was fired, right at their feet.   
  
“Bill!  _Do you trust me_?” Tom shouted, his voice desperate.   
  
They were feet away, twenty... fifteen... twelve.   
  
“Bill! Fucking answer!”   
  
“Yes!” Bill screeched. “Yes I trust you!”   
  
Five foot... three, two, one and then they were both leaping into nothingness, the warm air whipping around them. Bill clutched into Tom’s with one hand and waved the over wildly in the empty space, willing something solid to appear before him.   
  
What a way to die, what a fucking way to die. With some guy who’d stumbled into his life and told him stupid stories about ending the Governments oppressive regimes, about living in tents and trees and a better life.   
  
Bill was going to die, he could feel the unstoppable force of death rushing up to meet him.   
  
Then, without warning Tom was jerking him up, swinging him round to stand behind him on some sort of platform.   
  
Bill clung onto Tom, wrapping his arms so tight around Tom’s waist he knew it would hurt but he couldn’t stop himself. He had been falling and now he was standing.   
  
His eyes remained shut for several minutes, the shouts of the militia and the gunshots having faded long ago. He couldn’t hear, he could barely breathe, he couldn’t see. He could only feel the whip of the wind as they shot through it like a rocket.   
  
Tom didn’t speak, and if he did Bill wasn’t sure he’d be able to hear him over the rush of wind. He wasn’t sure how long had passed but soon he felt they were slowing, the wind not so harsh anymore.   
  
Slowly, he cracked open an eyelid and found himself staring at the back of Tom’s head, the cord-like ropes of his hair tickling his cheek. He sucked in a breath and then opened his eyes wider, pulling himself back from Tom slightly but still holding on.   
  
They were surrounded by the tops of buildings, steel grey and crumbing brick work. He looked down and gasped.   
  
“A hover board,” he whispered. Then he whacked Tom in the belly. “You have a hover board! Why didn’t you tell me?”   
  
Bill could practically hear the grin in his companion’s voice. “Well, I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, did I?”   
  
“You’re such a fucker,” Bill grumbled but his heart was pounding in relief. Tom had saved them. If Zimmer 483 had hover boards, what else did they have? Hover boards were created by military intelligence of the highest order.   
  
“How did you get hold of one of these?” Bill could hardly hide how impressed he was.   
  
“Zimmer 483 successfully managed to infiltrate the military three years ago. We’ve got connections spreading from budding Privates to Generals.”   
  
Bill gasped. “Then why haven’t you just done... like a coup or something.”   
  
Tom chuckled and Bill frowned. “It’s not that easy. I’ve said we need people like you and I’m not lying, we really do.”   
  
Bill nodded, not wanting to revisit that conversation just yet.  
  
“Thank you,” he said softly. “For saving me.”   
  
Bill didn’t like standing behind Tom on the hover board but Tom seemed to know what he was doing, flying low to keep hidden but not low enough people would see them from the streets. He wondered where they were going but was too tired to ask. The adrenaline rush from earlier had sent him crashing back down now.   
  
He let himself admire the city from above. He’d been high before, he often sought peace among the rafters of old buildings, it was much cleaner than the sewers and, Bill had discovered, much safer. He’d heard rumours of military booby traps that had been placed down there in order to ‘rid the system of vermin’. They’d used the premise of rats but Bill knew the militia didn’t distinguish between rodent vermin and human vermin.   
  
Now though he could see the vast sprawl of Berlin. It looked like ruins, but it was strangely beautiful. Bill could see how it had once been a major hub of Europa. He closed his eyes now, trying to imagine how clean it would have been, how busy and well lived in, how exciting. How  _free_.   
  
“We’re getting there,” Tom said over the quiet rush of the wind.   
  
“Where?” Bill said, peering over Tom’s shoulder ahead of them.   
  
“To the edge of the city.”   
  
Bill gasped. He’d never been to the edge of the city. He’d been south, but never north. No one wanted to live in the outskirts of Berlin; it was far too close to the wasteland they’d heard stories about, where nothing and no one could survive.   
  
“Is it safe?”   
  
Tom snorted. “Were you listening to anything I was telling you yesterday? Or were you too busy wanting to kiss me again?”   
  
Bill squawked. “I was not! I was too busy trying to work out if you were going to jump me again.”   
  
“I never did such a thing!” Tom denied, but Bill could feel his body shaking with amusement.   
  
“You fuck.”   
  
“See over there?” Tom extended a hand, keeping them steady but Bill held on a bit tighter just in case. He wasn’t sure he was a fan of technology just yet.   
  
He followed Tom’s finger to the horizon. He couldn’t see anything at first but then in the distance he spotted a faint row of something lining sections of the horizon. It wasn’t a full line but patched here and there.   
  
“Trees,” Tom told him, and sped up the board. “Nothing between here and home now.”   
  
Bill glanced down, startled to see they’d already left the walls of the city behind. Nothing lay beneath them but sandy scrubland and a few scraps of metal. Bill thought he saw a few tyres here and there, left over from when the last people had tried to flee the city decades ago.   
  
“Does this thing have enough power to get us all the way to the trees?”   
  
Tom nodded. “But we’re going way beyond the trees. I’m going to send out a comm now for someone to pick us up just past the first clusters.”   
  
“Comm?” This time Bill didn’t understand the terminology.   
  
“Communication,” Tom explained. “I couldn’t while we were in Berlin because the militia could pick up the signal but we’re out now. We’re pretty sure they don’t operate beyond the outskirts.”   
  
“Oh,” Bill said. He looked over his shoulder and wondered if he’d ever go back. Berlin was his home, he knew everything about the entire city.   
  
But then he looked forward and saw the growing horizon of trees. Fresh, perhaps like the start Bill needed. Tom had saved his life when he could have legged it solo, just like Bill had been doing for the past six years. But instead Tom had taken Bill with him, told him he could have a tent... and he’d kissed him.   
  
Bill smiled and buried his nose into the thick dreadlocks that Tom had tied up with an elastic looking piece of fabric.   
  
Tom let one hand squeeze Bill’s in response before using it to balance them again. Then he cleared his throat.   
  
“What?” Bill said, forever wary.   
  
“I gotta warn you,” Tom began. “They’re not going to like that I took you straight from the city without interrogation or vaccination or anything.”   
  
“Interrogation?” Bill said back, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.   
  
“They’ll need to make sure I haven’t picked up some military spy, or a contaminated citizen,” Tom went on.   
  
“I’m not fucking contaminated,” Bill spat.   
  
“I’m sure you’re not, you wouldn’t have been able to hit me that hard if you were,” Tom chortled.   
  
But Bill wasn’t laughing, he was worried now. Interrogation, that sounded all too familiar.   
  
“Tom...” he asked. “What are the interrogations like?”   
  
Tom shrugged. “They’ll most likely just ask you some questions, no biggie.”   
  
Bill wanted to relax, he really did but he wasn’t sure he could after hearing so much about the militia’s interrogations. Rumours flew around like mosquitoes but Bill knew there was at least some truth in gossip.   
  
“They don’t use... like, they’re not gonna hurt me?”   
  
“Hurt you? No, interrogating just means... like an interview or something.” Tom was speaking so casually Bill knew he couldn’t have heard the same rumours he had.   
  
“Okay,” he said. “If they do I’ll blow your fucking brains, you know.”   
  
Tom barked a laugh. “Relax, they won’t hurt you.”   
  
“Better not,” Bill mumbled, feeling calmer but not entirely at ease. He was, after all, flying right into the middle of the unknown.   
  
“If you do decide to have your way with me, however,” Tom said. “Can you make sure it’s in my bed, not with a gun in your hand.”   
  
“You’re so fucking full of it,” he said, but couldn’t help but join in Tom’s laughter as they flew closer and closer to the trees.   
  
  


~~~~

  
  
“You can let go now,” Tom said gently as they landed without a hitch.   
  
“Alright, alright,” Bill felt a lot steadier now he was on solid ground again. The air was cleaner out here and he inhaled, staring around at this new environment.   
  
The trees were a lot bigger than he thought, towering branches waving up at the sky. They were surrounded by a small copse of them, no bigger than ten or twenty in total but Bill loved it, he loved how secretive the area felt, no place in Berlin felt this secluded. He was always expecting someone to find him, to either shoo him away or share his shelter. In the midst of all these trees, Bill felt like he and Tom were the only two people left on earth.   
  
“They’ll come for us in about two minutes,” Tom said, looking up from his comm device to smile at Bill.   
  
“Fine,” Bill said, already straying from Tom, wanting to check out the nearest tree.   
  
“What can we do for two minutes?” Tom said, sidling up behind Bill and slinging one arm around his shoulders.   
  
“Ugh,” Bill tried wriggling away. “I want to see a tree close up.”   
  
They got to the the first tree and Bill reached forward, running his calloused hand over the bark carefully. It was mottled and twisted up into knots here and there but Bill loved it, it felt so solid beneath his finger tips and he pressed a palm flat to it. It felt like nothing in the world could destroy this thing, it felt ancient and wise. Bill wondered if it had seen the destruction of humanity or if it had grown up after and just seen the remnants.   
  
“They’re so big,” he whispered as he looked up, feeling small.   
  
“Mmm” Tom agreed. Behind him, Bill suddenly felt the brush of lips against the shell of his ear. He shivered, and tipped his head back ever so slightly so Tom’s lips could find his neck.   
  
Tom’s hand moved to the tree, pinning Bill between his arms against the giant trunk.   
  
“Tom,” Bill said, his voice coming out breathier than usual. He wanted to curse himself for being so weak around Tom but he couldn’t bring himself to push Tom away, not yet.   
  
Instead he turned, facing Tom and finding Tom’s gaze fixed right on him, that cocky smile in place. Tom was so sure of himself, of what he wanted and the thought made Bill feel hot. He knew Tom could have his way with him and Bill would barely squeak a protest.   
  
“Not going to fight me off this time?” Tom said, still grinning.   
  
Bill scowled but didn’t say anything, couldn’t even look away from Tom. He was pressed so tight against the tree he couldn’t move away, and he didn’t want to.   
  
“You really are cute, you know,” Tom said and before Bill could protest he’d pushed in so close their lips met. It was hot and exciting and almost immediately this time, Tom’s tongue was licking at the inside of his mouth.   
  
It was the most intimate experience Bill had ever had. He found himself winding his arms around Tom’s neck, dragging him even closer. Tom’s lips were chapped against his own but the feeling was exhilarating.   
  
Bill wanted more, he wanted to give what he’d never given to anyone. Bowing his back from the tree, he moaned into Tom’s mouth and was about to suggest they go further when a tumultuous roar resounded around the whole area.   
  
Bill shoved Tom off him and looked around, panicked. It was like nothing he’d ever heard, it was so loud he couldn’t even hear himself think. He spun this way and that, trying to work out the source but he couldn’t, he couldn’t see through the dense overgrowth of vegetation above them.   
  
“Bill, Bill,” Tom grabbed Bill’s arm and tried to get him to calm down but Bill shook his head. He’d become far too lax in Tom’s company, he wasn’t fully aware.   
  
“It’s only our helicopter!” Tom was shouting above the racket. “It’s coming to pick us up!”   
  
Bill whirled round to face where Tom was pointing to.   
  
Before them, just beyond the thicket of trees they were standing in, a huge machine was landing, hovering a mere few feet of the ground just as the hover board was capable of.   
  
But instead of gliding silently like Tom’s hover board, this one had a huge spinning propeller that made the trees bow and bend as it came to a stop just beside them.   
  
It finally came to a stop but the roaring did not, clearly the engine had not been cut yet.   
  
“Come on,” Tom gestured, holding out a hand for Bill to take.   
  
But Bill hesitated, unsure he wanted to continue on this journey. What was he about to get himself into?   
  
“It’s safe, I promise,” Tom assured him. “It might not be as high tech as the hover board but it’ll get us from A to B without a hitch.”   
  
Bill bit his lip and frowned.   
  
Tom walked right up to him then, standing before him and cupping his cheek on one hand. “I promise.”   
  
Bill met Tom’s eyes then and knew he meant him. Tom wouldn’t rescue him from one threat only to put him right in the middle of another. He nodded and hoped Tom knew just how much faith he was putting in him.   
  
They walked to the helicopter, as Tom had called it, to find a man rushing out to greet them. Tom tugged Bill on despite the man’s shouting. He sounded angry, Bill was sure of it. He couldn’t hear what he was saying but he was waving his arms wildly.   
  
“What the fuck are you doing, Kaulitz?” Were the first words Bill could make out.   
  
“Jost,” Tom greeted with a grin. “This is Bill.”   
  
“You’d better get your fucking hands off him,” the man named Jost yelled over the noise of the engine.   
  
Bill didn’t want Tom to get his fucking hands off him. “Tom can do whatever the fuck he likes,” he said as the man approached them.   
  
“Careful, he bites,” Tom said and tugged Bill towards the helicopter and helped him climb aboard.   
  
“Tom,” Jost growled. “He sits in back, with cargo. Franz is gonna kill you.”   
  
Bill bared his teeth at Jost and sat down where Tom directed him to, which was quite obviously not in back with the cargo.   
  
Jost just shook his head, hoisting himself up to slam the door shut behind them before joining a pilot up front.   
  
As soon as the helicopter was in the air, Bill’s head dropped to Tom’s shoulder, he was knackered.  
  


~~~~

  
  
“Get him the fuck away from my soldier.”  
  
People were yelling when Bill woke up, his head groggy with fatigue. He blinked, trying to wake himself up properly, the way he was used to doing in Berlin, always ready.   
  
“Leave him alone,” Bill heard Tom’s voice. “He’s been through fucking hell and back, they all have out there.”   
  
“He hasn’t been quarantined, interrogated,  _anything_!” Bill heard a woman’s voice screeching.   
  
“Franz, he’s fine, he’s clean, I’ve spent the last 24 hours alone with him and he’s not shown one sign of the plague.”   
  
“We need to be certain. We need to check he’s not working for the goddamn militia.”   
  
“He’s not, I’ve seen it with my own eyes,  _goddamnit_ ,” Tom was yelling now.   
  
Before Bill could climb out the helicopter, rough hands grabbed him and dragged him down. He yelped, caught off guard and cursed himself for once again falling beneath Tom’s blanket of security.   
  
“Get the fuck off me!” He fought, kicking out and trying to slice skin with his nails whenever it came into contact.   
  
“Bill!” Tom said, but it was too dark for Bill to see where he was. “Get off him you dumb fucks, he’s not a threat!”   
  
“Franz’s orders,” a gruff voice sounded from one of Bill’s captors and then something was pressed over his mouth and nose and the world went fuzzy, and then black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


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